


We can Travel (Side by Side)

by rattatatosk



Category: Pacific Rim (2013), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Gen, Injury, Mention of blood, eeveelutions are basically big cats, let's be real the pokemon world is pretty messed up to begin with, lots of personal headcanons and extrapolations for the Pokemon 'verse, the dark side of pokemon battles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-19 00:36:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3589701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rattatatosk/pseuds/rattatatosk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not quite four in the morning when Newt is woken by a frantic pounding on his door. In the dim glow from the porch light he sees a bedraggled and clearly exhausted man, leaning heavily on a cane. Beside him a Lucario holds a trembling Umbreon in its arms.  </p>
<p>“I'm so sorry to disturb you,” the man is saying. “But I- I was told you could help her.” His whole body is trembling, knuckles white around the handle of his cane. “Please help her.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on Tumblr wanted to see this crossover, and I was like 'yeah, that would be cool!' with no intention of writing it... and then the fic started writing itself anyway. Thanks, brain.
> 
> Title from "Heal Over" by K.T. Tunstell

It's not quite four in the morning when Newt is woken by a frantic pounding on his door. Next to him, his Growlithe grumbles and growls when he is shoved aside with the bedcovers, as Newt blearily staggers out of bed and stumbles to answer the door.

In the dim glow from the porch light he sees a bedraggled and clearly exhausted man, leaning heavily on a cane. Beside him, a Lucario holds a trembling Umbreon in its arms. Newt is briefly surprised to realize that the Umbreon's rings are glowing a faint blue in the darkness, rather than the standard yellow, but then he sees the deep gashes in its side and the blood matting its fur, and everything else fades into the background as he realizes just how dire the situation is.

“I'm so sorry to disturb you,” the man is saying. “But I- I was told you could help her.” His whole body is trembling, knuckles white around the handle of his cane. “Please help her.”

“Of course, dude,” Newt says, his mind already racing ahead-- the supplies he'll need, the time it'll take, and just how much time they have left to spare. He looks down at the Growlithe at his feet. “Max, go wake up Mako,” he says, then looks at the Lucario. “Follow him. There's a room off to the left. Lay her down on the table in there.” The Lucario stares at him solemnly for a long moment, before nodding briefly and following after the Growlithe. The man in his doorway watches them go, obviously stricken. He still hasn't moved from the porch.

“Come inside,” Newt says gently, gesturing towards the sofa in his living room. Slowly, the man limps inside and sits. “What's your name?” Newt asks, once he's settled.

“Hermann,” he says. “I- Will she-- can you help her?”

“Well, Hermann,” Newt says, “let me get my kit, and I'll do my very best.”

==//==

 

An hour later, Newt strips the bloodied surgical gloves from his hands and tosses them into the trash, then makes his way out into the living room. Hermann is still perched anxiously on the edge of the couch, crouched over his cane. His Lucario sits on his left side, leaning its head on his shoulders and rubbing one arm with its paw comfortingly. Both of them look up as Newt enters the room, and Hermann pushes himself abruptly to his feet, despite the obvious pain the movement causes him.

“How- how is she? Is-- will she be all right?”

“She's stable for now,” Newt says. “Those wounds were deep, and they'll definitely scar, but she should pull through.”

“Oh, thank god,” Hermann says, slumping back onto the couch in relief. He waves away Newt's comment about scarring. “As- as long as- as she's alive. I thought--”

Newt nods, understanding. He's good at what he does, but even he can't save them all. There have been too many that didn't make it, and every one still hurts.

Hermann is still pale, still clearly exhausted, but he's no longer trembling. “Can I see her?” he asks.

“She'll be sleeping for at least another half hour, until the sedatives wear off,” Newt says. “Tell you what, though. It's almost morning anyway, I'm starving, and you look like you're about to fall over. Let me make some coffee and some breakfast, and by the time you've eaten, she should be awake.”

Herman looks at him for a long moment before giving a shaky nod.

“I-- Yes. Thank you. That- that would be wonderful. I will take tea, if you have it.”

“Of course, dude,” Newt says, and goes to put on the kettle.

==//==

 

Ten minutes later, Newt sets down the plates of eggs and toast on the table, along with two steaming mugs of tea, and a bowl of berries for the Lucario. They eat in silence, until at last Hermann says quietly, “Thank you, again. For this, and for--” his voice cracks slightly, “--for saving her.”

“You don't have to thank me for that, man,” Newt says. “Helping hurt pokemon-- it's what I do. And it's obvious she's important to you.”

Hermann nods. He opens his mouth to say something else, but seems to reconsider, before simply saying, “We've been together a long time.”

“I get it, man. When you've known a pokemon a long time, they're more than just pets or friends. They're family. You know?”

“Yes. 'Family' is a good word for it. Ada has proven a better friend than many humans I know.”

Newt pauses, curiosity warring with tact, and picking curiosity. “Hey-- you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to, but what happened? You don't seem the battling type, if you know what I mean.”

Hermann's mouth twists. “You are correct, I am not. I spend much of my time in the mountains, studying the stars. I came into town to restock my supplies, and during an evening walk, I was accosted by some teenage rapscallion. He seemed fascinated by Ada, particularly her unusual coloring, and he demanded a battle to test her skills against his own team. I tried to explain that we did not battle, and that I would appreciate it if he left us to our own business, but--”

“He wouldn't take no for an answer,” Newt finishes, anger clear in his voice. “Yeah, I've met those trainers. They're assholes. Punk kids who only think about the victories, not the toll on their pokemon. Then when their pokemon get too injured to fight, they just abandon them. Makes me sick.”

“Indeed. I-”

Their conversation is interrupted by a soft _woof_ , and Newt looks down to see Max wagging his tail. Mako stands in the doorway behind him.

“Well, looks like our patient is awake,” Newt says. “C'mon, Hermann. Let's go check in on Ada.”

==//==

 

Ada lies curled on her side in a soft pet bed, bandages wrapped thickly around her midsection. Her fur is damp with sweat, but she opens her eyes slightly as they step into the room, and mews quietly when she spots Hermann and the Lucario.

“Oh, _Ada_ ,” Hermann says, moving to her as quickly as he can and softly stroking the fur between her ears. “Oh, my dear. I'm so very glad you're all right.” The injured Umbreon mews again, and starts to purr softly.

Hermann stays there for several minutes, quietly petting her and murmuring soft nonsense words of comfort, until at last Ada's eyes drift closed and her breathing evens out into sleep. Only then does Hermann slump, and Newt notices how badly the arm holding his cane is shaking.

“Hey,” Newt says softly. Hermann looks up at him and-- yeah, wow, Newt can see the bone-deep exhaustion in his eyes. “Listen, dude. I've got a spare room, if you need someplace to crash. You kinda look like you could use it.”

Hermann stiffens. “No, no. I couldn't impose on you like that. I- I will find someplace to stay. There was an inn--”

“That inn is like, _miles_ down the road, man. My spare room is right here,” Newt argues, but Hermann only seems to bristle further.

“I am perfectly _capable_ of--”

“That's not what I meant, dude!” Newt snaps, cutting him off. On the table, Ada stirs, restless, and he lowers his voice to a whisper. “Look, it's not a big deal. Like I said, helping hurt pokemon is what I do, and a lot of times their trainers need someplace to stay while they heal up. It's why I have a spare room.”

“Still, I assure you, I have no need for--” Hermann pauses as his Lucario huffs sharply under its breath, and lays a paw on his shoulder. He turns to look at it, and the Lucario looks back, rebuke clear in its eyes. Hermann's shoulders slump in defeat.

“Oh, very well, Descartes. Perhaps you are right.” He turns again to Newt. “Show us to this spare room of yours, then.”

 

==//==

 

Once Hermann is settled, Newt takes the opportunity to crash himself, flopping back into his bed and burying himself in the blankets. When he wakes again, it's nearly noon, to judge by the light coming in the window, and the rest of the household is clearly awake, to judge by the yips and barks coming from the backyard.

Newt slips on his glasses and some reasonably clean clothes, then wanders out to enjoy the usual commotion.

Of all the things Newt likes about this house, the yard is the best. It's huge, really more of a park than anything, with a large grassy area bordered by thick bushes and the edge of a forest on one side, and a hill that slopes down to a lake on the other side. It's a lot of space, but it's needed; he currently has over a dozen pokemon living here, and most of them are pretty large. Currently, most of his tenants are hanging around in the meadow, finishing off their lunch, and peering curiously at Hermann, who is sitting under a tree at the edge of the meadow with his silent and ever-present Lucario at his side.  
  
As Newt steps out, some of the pokemon catch sight of him, and bound over, demanding scratches and treats, which he cheerfully passes out as he makes his way towards where Hermann sits.

Hermann looks a bit overwhelmed by the size of his observers (particularly the overlarge Nidoking and Nidoqueen sunning themselves in the grass) but decidedly happier than he did earlier that morning. He even smiles slightly as Newt walks over and plops down on the grass next to him.

“This place is wonderful,” he murmurs, as a Pachirisu nuzzles up against his side. “You own all this? All these pokemon?”

“Well, I wouldn't say _own_ ,” Newt says, as a Tyrunt lumbers over and flops down next to him, laying its head in his lap. He scratches its scales absently as he explains. “Max and Mako, those are pokemon I caught myself. And there are a couple others from my days as a trainer, though they mostly hang out in the woods. But most of these guys are rescues-- wounded pokemon I found, or pokemon whose trainers brought here to be treated, and who ended up too injured to battle. They can't go back to living in the wild, but most trainers don't want them, so-- they stay here.”

“I see,” Hermann says, his eyes roving over the crowd of pokemon in the field. Now that Newt points it out, he notices the injuries and scars on most of them: a Kanghaskan missing most of its tail; a leathery, ancient-looking Venusaur with a ragged and wilting flower; a Murkrow limping along with missing toes and one wing decidedly smaller than the other. “I- I confess I did not know such severe injuries were so common. Obviously pokemon are often injured in battle, but... I suppose I thought that the Pokemon Centers took care of such things.”

“Most of the time, they do,” Newt agrees. “Pokemon Centers are fine for the low-level stuff, kids battling Rattata and Pidgeys and whatever. But when you get into the higher-level competitions, especially the gym circuits and the League battles... things get intense. There's so much competition, and a lot of the trainers push their pokemon too hard. There's a _lot_ of bad injuries, even trainers attacked by frustrated pokemon when the trainers go to far.”

“I had no idea,” Hermann says quietly.

“Most people don't,” Newt says, shrugging. “And the people on the inside, they don't like to talk about it. It's bad for business, you know? The League battles are a huge spectacle. Don't want to put people off by letting them know about all the nasty consequences of the sport.” His mouth twists, and he almost spits the words, remembering his own bitter experiences. Then he shakes himself. “Anyway, this is all kinda superdepressing. How about some food? These guys have all had lunch, but I haven't, and I'm starving. Plus, I should go check in on Ada. You want a sandwich or something?”

Hermann looks at him for a long moment, perhaps caught off-guard by the sudden change in subject, but then his stomach rumbles. He sighs, and gives a bemused smile. “Oh, very well then.”


	2. Chapter 2

After lunch Hermann follows Newt into the infirmary to check on Ada, who is looking considerably better. She is sitting up in her bed and starts purring as soon as she sees Hermann, rubbing her head against his hand when he walks over. He smiles as he pets her, relief washing over him. Even though the vet-- Newt, Hermann reminds himself, his name is Newt-- even though _Newt_ had assured him that Ada would be okay, he hasn't been able to forget the nightmare events of the night before; her sides heaving as she whimpered in pain, and his own struggles to walk as quickly as possible while Descartes loped ahead, hoping against hope they would make it in time--

“Looks like she's doing good,” Newt comments from the doorway, and Hermann shakes his head to banish those dark thoughts. “She should be okay to travel in another day or two.”

Hermann nods. “I- I must thank you, again. For everything,” he says. “You have been terribly kind. I don't know how I can repay you.”

Newt grins and shrugs, flicking one hand in a dismissive gesture. “Don't worry about it, dude,” he says, and now that Hermann is not overwhelmed by panic, he must admit the man's casual address really _is_ quite irritating. “I told you, it's what I do.”

“Please, I insist,” he says, pressing on. “There must be _something_ I can do for you, after you have done so much for us...” There _must_ be. Hermann hates being beholden to anyone, and for a debt of this magnitude-- he cannot let it go unpaid. 

“Really, you don't have to-”

“Yes, I do.”

Newt sighs, and runs his fingers through his already messy hair. “You're really not gonna let this go, are you?”

“I am afraid I cannot,” Hermann replies stiffly.

“All right, all right. I guess I can always use more medical supplies and feed for the 'mons to keep this place going. But you _really_ don't have to.”

“If you get me a list, I will order them immediately.”

Newt sighs again and rolls his eyes, but despite continuing to complain and bicker through the entire process, he does make a list. Hermann is relieved as well; with Ada recovering and the debt of her care no longer hanging over him, he finally feels able to relax. Well, as much as he can with Newt constantly babbling at him.

Hermann is only reluctantly social at the best of times-- he prefers the quiet and solitude of the mountains to the inane chatter that constitutes _conversation_ with most people-- but despite his best efforts, he finds himself charmed by Newt. The man speaks with such _enthusiasm_ on all manner of topics, and he is surprisingly intelligent, something Hermann would never have guessed from his careless and rather garish appearance. 

The tattoos are the worst of it. Hermann doesn't think he's ever seen so many tattoos on anyone who isn't in some motorcycle gang. They run all up and down the man's arms, swirls of color depicting fierce pokemon, most of which Hermann has never seen before. They're all spikes and teeth and tentacles, and the overall image seems utterly at odds with Newt's cheerful and friendly demeanor.

In any other circumstance, Hermann would probably say something snide about them. However, given what Newt has done for Ada, he restrains himself. Instead he merely asks about the species of the ones he doesn't recognize.

“Oh, man, do you like them? Took me ages to get them finished, but it was totally worth it! This one, here, that's a Tyranitar, and that one there, that's a Haxorus. Did you know their tusks can cut through two feet of solid steel? They're amazing! And then there's this one--”

Hermann realizes too late what he's gotten himself in to. At this rate, it'll be hours before Newt shuts up.

 

==//==

 

And indeed, it is several hours later before Hermann is successfully able to steer the conversation away from the most ferocious species of pokemon (and their rather terrifying abilities) and onto more mundane topics. Most importantly, overnight accommodations.

Although Newt has freely offered him the use of his spare room again for the night, Hermann is determined not to take him up on the offer. The inn is only a few miles down the road, and while some days it is easier than others, he has walked such distances many times before. He is perfectly capable of taking care of himself. He does not intend to rely on Newt's generosity any more than necessary. He has already allowed more than he is comfortable with.

Newt, of course, thinks this is nonsense, and says so, loudly and repeatedly. None of Hermann's (entirely reasonable) arguments can sway him, he keeps insisting that Hermann should just stay at the house, and Hermann is just as insistent that he should not.

So naturally, the universe is determined to make a liar out of him. Just as he has finally started to convince Newt that no, he will be perfectly comfortable staying at the inn until Ada is better, he notices just how dark the room has grown. Looking out the window, he sees dark clouds have gathered over the formerly sunny sky. Before he can even begin to hope it is merely clouds, a clap of thunder shakes the room and rain begins pouring down. Hermann sighs in defeat. There's no way he's walking to the inn now.

"Good thing I spent so long arguing with you, huh?" Newt says, smirking. "If you'd left when you planned, you'd be caught miles from shelter now."

“Are you saying that you _deliberately_ prolonged this discussion in order to delay my departure?” Hermann snaps, suddenly furious. 

“Noooo,” Newt drawls sarcastically. “But I _might_ be saying that you're so damn stubborn you didn't even bother to look at the weather before deciding to hike several miles down a mountain. The weather changes quick up here, dude. Shouldn't you know that? Didn't you say you study the sky?”

“I study the _stars_ , you ignorant fool, I _know_ you know the difference.”

“Oh, _I'm_ ignorant? Really? You want to go there? I'll have you know, I--”

They bicker and snap at each other, then start shouting, until at last Hermann simply turns on his heel, storming off to visit Ada again and fume in peace. Privately, however, he admits that, while it was incredibly rude and childish of Newt to manipulate him this way, it was at-least well-intentioned. And he  _is_ glad not to be caught in the rain, which is really coming down quite furiously.

“If he had just **told** me about the weather, there would have been no need of such a production _,”_ he mutters. “I would simply have stayed put!”

_ Oh, would you have? _ Descartes voice blooms in his mind.  _ You know yourself better than that, Hermann. If that man hadn't delayed you, I'd  **still** be trying to argue you back up the mountain. _

Hermann frowns, and says nothing, merely continues stroking Ada's head in thoughtful silence.

==//==

 

When he joins Newt again for dinner, neither of them mention the argument. Hermann does, however, admit to a certain fascination with the extremely variable weather patterns found in certain areas, and Newt mentions that he has a documentary exploring just that phenomenon, as well as a possible connection to the abilities of certain ancient pokemon.

They end up spending the evening watching the documentary. Hermann is fascinated despite the film's focus on biology rather than meteorology, and he and Newt end up ferociously debating which factor deserves more credit for influencing weather patterns. They get so involved that Ada and Descartes, who have been curled up on the corner of the couch, remove themselves to someplace a little quieter. Hermann is embarrassed when he realizes how loud they've become, but can't bring himself to regret too deeply; this evening has been the most fun he's had in _years_. 

 

==//==

 

They sleep in, eating breakfast late enough that it really qualifies more as lunch. Newt somehow convinces Hermann to take a tour of the entire preserve, and of course he ends up introducing him to each and every one of his pokemon “tenants”, which seem to become ever larger and more terrifying the further they walk. Still, Hermann can't help but admire Newt's knowledge of the pokemon he houses-- not just the abilities and characteristics of each species, but their individual stories: where they were caught, what happened while they traveled with trainers, and how they found themselves here at the preserve. It is obvious that Newt truly cares for each of these pokemon, in spite of (and maybe even because of) their fearsome appearances. While Hermann still prefers the solitude of his mountain home and the perfect silence of the peaks at night, he finds himself suddenly a bit lonely at the thought.

Solitude and quiet have their advantages, but perhaps-- just perhaps-- there is a time and place for noise and chaos as well.

In moderation, of course.

 

==//==

 

It happens sometime during his third evening at Newt's. Afterwards, Hermann can never remember how they wandered onto this topic. But somehow, they start talking more about pokemon battles-- perhaps an announcement about the current Championship came on TV?-- it doesn't matter. What matters is that somehow Newt mentions his last name, and all at once Hermann's brain grinds to a halt from one sudden realization.

Hermann stares at him. “Wait. Newt. _Newton_. You-- _you're_ Newton Geiszler?”

Newt blinks. “Uh. Yes?”

“The prodigy pokemon trainer? You- weren't you almost _Champion_ while you were still a teenager?I'll admit, I don't follow pokemon battles, but even I remember your name, given that no one could shut up about you!”

Newt is running his hands through his hair, clearly nervous. “Eheh... well, yeah, I guess...”

“You- just-- what happened to you? I remember people talking about the big match for Champion, and then-- nothing. You just disappeared, and some other trainer went on to the final match instead. You-” he pauses, trying to find the right way to say it. “You mentioned something earlier about wanting to be a rockstar,” he says at last. “So-- why?”

Newt sighs and turns away, no longer smiling, and Hermann is suddenly struck by how different he seems without it. He is somehow smaller, the constant spark of his enthusiasm extinguished. He's silent for a long moment, running his fingers absently along the edge of the kitchen table. Hermann is just about to apologize and take the question back, when Newt finally speaks.

“You remember what I said that first morning, about trainers pushing their pokemon too hard, because all they can think about is the victory? Well, that was a lesson I learned the hard way.”

Hermann understands immediately. “You lost a pokemon.”

“Yeah. It was the day before the big fight, and I was training with my team... the specifics aren't really important. Basically, one of my team-- Rodan, she was a great Staraptor-- she got hurt. I took her in to the Pokemon Center, but she- it was too-- there was nothing they could do. I lost her.” He sighs. “After that, winning some stupid title didn't seem to matter so much anymore. So--I dropped out of the fight. Wandered around for awhile. Eventually, I wound up starting this place. I-- I wanted to be able to take care of the pokemon that the Centers couldn't.”

“I'm sorry,” Hermann says, and tries to continue, but can't think of what else to add. He has never been comfortable with this kind of emotional intimacy. They both fall into a heavy, thoughtful silence. At last, Hermann continues.

“I- I can't say I am glad that you suffered such a loss,” he murmurs. “But, I _am_ grateful that you were here to save Ada. And-- and I am sure many other trainers feel the same way.”

Newt smiles weakly. “Thanks, man.”

The evening is quiet after that, and Hermann retires early. Ada is recovered enough that she no longer needs to sleep in the infirmary by herself, and instead curls up in her usual place at Hermann's side, the heat from her body radiating through his bad knee. For the first time since the battle, Hermann falls asleep easily, and sleeps deeply.

 

==//==

 

The next morning dawns bright and clear, the air crisp and refreshing. It's a good day to travel, and with Ada well on the way to recovery, there is no longer any need for Hermann to stay. And yet, he finds himself suddenly reluctant to leave. As terrible as the circumstances that brought him here were, he has genuinely enjoyed Newt's company. He can't recall the last time he has felt so comfortable and relaxed around another human being. As short as his time here has been, he's going to miss it. 

He dithers and tries to put off his preparations for leaving as long as possible, but at last there are no more excuses for him to make. Descartes is making pointed glances at the door, and Newt is just fidgeting anxiously as he hovers by Hermann's side. By the expression on his face, Newt understands exactly what Hermann's been doing. Still, Hermann delays just a little longer, twisting his cane in his hands as he stands near the door.

“Well,” he says at last. “It seems I must be on my way.”

“I guess so,” Newt says, slouching (as always) against the doorframe. “But listen, you're welcome anytime, okay? Come say hi, whenever you're in the area.”

“Perhaps I will,” Hermann says. “Thank you again, for everything.”

“No problem, dude,” Newt says, and gives a jaunty wave. Hermann smiles in return, and then turns to leave. He gets all the way to the gate before Newt calls out, “Hey, Hermann!”

Hermann turns. “Yes?”

Newt flashes a cheeky grin. “Just, y'know, make sure you check the weather first. Wouldn't want you to get caught in the rain.”

“ _Goodbye,_ Newt,” Hermann says, doing his best to keep a smile off his face and failing. He won't say any more, lest he encourage the man, but he already knows-- he will definitely be back to visit again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -This fic ended up being a lot longer than I planned, and actually spawned a lot more headcanons than I was able to include here. No promises on writing any related fics, but feel free to talk pokemon in the comments!
> 
> -When I first started writing this I thought the 'can't say no to a battle' bit was me extrapolating, and then I started a new game of Alpha Sapphire. One of the first trainers you run into says something like “If you have pokemon with you, you're a trainer! You can't say no to a battle!” So... yeah. That's a thing. Pokemon: the world where it's totally okay to assault strangers with deadly monsters. You know, for kids!
> 
> -Just for fun, Newt's previous team: Venomoth (Mothra), Feraligatr (Gojira), Carracosta (Gamera), Staraptor (Rodan), Hydreigon (Ghidorah), Lairron (Mecha Gojira)
> 
> No, that's probably not well-balanced enough to realistically challenge the E4, but, y'know, it's kaiju-themed. It seemed appropriate. 
> 
> -As for Hermann's pokemon, they are all science/astronomy themed. His shiny Umbreon is named after Ada Lovelace, the first computer programmer. Descartes was a mathematician and philosopher. He also has a Clefable (Theia, the planet that collided with Earth to create the Moon) and an Absol named Cassini (a mathemetician and astronomer). Clefable, Lucario, and Absol are all shy species that tend to live in mountainous areas, which seemed perfect for a reclusive Hermann.


End file.
